Black & Orange
by Tiberias
Summary: House/Chase fan fiction. Foreman is using Chase. Season 06


TITLE: Black & Orange  
AUTHOR: Tiberias  
PAIRING: House/Chase  
RATING: NC/17  
SUMMARY: Foreman is using Chase. (Season 06)  
DISCLAIMER: I don't own any HOUSE MD character. I'm not making money off of this. 

"I need a favor from you." He asks.

I don't stop drinking my coffee, but don't look up at him either.

Let's be honest, right now I'm finding more interesting the white plastic fork lying in my plate.

And telling you the truth, I just want him to understand that this farce has to come to an end.

But he doesn't understand me.

Better yet, he understands what I want from him but he doesn't want to give up on me.

He wants me.

He pretends me.

He orders me around.

Yes, he likes it. Being in charge.

And guess why?

Come on folks, let's make an indicated guess.

Diabla.

Yeah, you got it right.

He saved my ass after I killed him. A man and his crazy kingdom.

All his silky and slick words about me loosing my brilliant career, my wife and our future, House, all my friends and reputation … all those beautiful and persuasive words of his.

Snakes crawling all over me. Me thinking that he wanted to save me from falling hard.

I thought that he covered my ass because of me. Because I'm Chase, his friend.

You can laugh at me. Like he did when I told him so.

"You are my friend!" Pathetic.

How stupid I was.

Standing there, staring at his fucking smirk, wanting to wipe it off.

"I'm not jocking Robert." Smooth and calm. Foreman.

He used my first name because for him it was more funny to do so, to underline the fact that we weren't friends.

He saw in me a chance.

A chance to play what he will never be.

A chance to be the most hated and desired person we know.

Guess who?

House.

Gregory fucking genius House.

"She will not like what you did." He whispered to me, his dark eyes following Cameron walking past us.

"Keep her out of this shit." I warned him.

But I was a weak, I couldn't tell her that I was a killer.

I couldn't look at her, telling that her husband was gone somewhere replaced with a cold hearted killer.

I'd like to say, "look I'm not the man you married. I became someone else."

And I know that she would look at me in horror, trying to catch the last piece of her ancient lover flying away.

Probably, let's just be honest I waned to feel different.

To do something that for me, for my own terms was right.

Perhaps it was right for me.

Anyway it all started with Foreman asking me to wash his car once a week.

"Better for me and my money." He declared swinging a bucket full of water in front of my face, "and it's also a sunny morning."

Don't stare at me, pointing your finger and wondering if I could be that weak.

I was that weak. Happy now?

Then he asked me to pay all his lunches.

"You are lucky that I only ate sandwiches for lunch." He laughed patting my shoulder.

Later he discovered how nice was being driven home or cuddled with many cups of coffee.

And Cameron?

She didn't catch any strange behavior of yours? Of Foreman?

Cameron was too taken in asking, demanding attentions.

Rolling up her eyes, wondering what was going on.

And of course she was asking to have sex with me, his husband.

Yeah, sex.

Sex, was the next thing Foreman asked me to perform.

But not with him.

This now where I am, at Foreman's house, discussing over a crazy idea of his.

"I'm not going to let you watch me being fucked up in the ass by some stranger, only because you are into strange perversions and voyeurism!" I yell throwing my jacket away.

He remains in silence.

"I'm tired of you ordering me around. How long will this go on?" I ask kicking his bed.

"Washing your fucking car, throwing money away for all your stupid craves about this and that. I'm tired about this sick game of yours!"

"Do you want me to say what you did?" He asks filling two glasses with whiskey.

"I don't care Foreman!" I yell slapping away his hand and whiskey.

"Yes you care about Cameron and your shiny career." He simply says and he's right.

Quickly I try to come up with an offer that he might like.

Shame on me.

"I … If you want, you can fuck me." I suggest.

Silence. I swallow down the whiskey.

"I don't want to fuck you." He laughs shaking his head.

"Well take it or leave it, I'm not going to fuck with some crazy hooker!"

He nods. "OK."

"OK.." I breathe out picking up my jacket.

"I do still want you to fuck with someone."

Staring at him, I'm about to say something when he stops me. He surprises me.

"I want you to have sex with House."

"What?" I yell in disbelieve.

"You heard very well." He answers sitting on his bed.

"And … how?"

"It's up to you." He shrugs.

"Look you are totally out of your mind! I don't want to fuck House."

"House will fuck you." He corrects.

"I don't care do you understand? I don't want to have sex with him. I'm straight."

"I don't care either." He shrugs again.

Silence.

"This will be the last thing that I will ask you."

"Yeah, like no!"

"Yeah, like yes. Then you'll be free with your burden."

Alluring. Very alluring.

"Look also if I accept this shit of yours, how do you expect me to ask him if he wants to have fun with my ass?" I ask crossing my arms.

"I don't know. I repeat, it's up to you." He says. "It's late your wife will be wondering where you went."

"You can't ask me this. He will fire me again!" I cry out.

"It's your business."

"Fuck you!"

"Let House fuck you, and bring me a proof of it." He orders getting up from the bed.

"A proof?" I ask confused. "What do you prefer his boxer or his spunk?"

"No that one is Cameron."

"Fuck you!" I hiss before rushing out from his apartment.

One week goes by before Foreman returns asking, obviously while I'm having lunch with Cameron.

"You don't have forever. Ask him to fuck you!" He whispers into my ear before walking away.

"What does he wants?" She asks.

"Oh that House wants us in his office"

How stupid!

She tries to drink it, probably because I'm smiling like an idiot.

"OK." She shrugs. I walk away.

Later I find myself waiting House outside, beside his Honda Repsol.

I see him limping toward his motorbike, a confused expression in his eyes.

"What do you want?" He briefly asks.

"I'm … Cameron took my car and ..."

"I'm not taking you home." He simply says turning on the engine.

I remain in silence not knowing what to say, how to ask him to fuck me.

I only nod and watch him ride away.

Two days later Foreman leaves an I-know-what-you-did note on my locker.

"It's not easy ya know?" I spit out paying for his fucking lunch.

"I don't care." he shrugs grabbing his tray. "Beside he finds you pretty."

"What are you, a broken vinyl?" I hiss, "I told you that it's not easy asking him out!"

"I'm tired of waiting get a move or next week I will stop protecting your sorry ass." He warns me before going to sit with Taub.

I spend the next few days buying him coffee and sweets that he likes, wearing tight jeans and wanting eyes but nothing is working.

He just laughs harsh, gives his usual wise crack opinions or stares at me like the loser I am.

Tonight I'm back in admiring his black and orange motorbike while waiting him to come.

I'm freezing my ass and thunders are suggesting that it's gonna rain pretty hard.

He limps toward me. "I'm not giving you any lift."

"Please." I whisper.

He stares at me while inserting the key into the ignition.

Humid wind is blowing and I just want this to be over quickly.

"Fuck me. Bend me on your bed and fuck me like Foreman wants, then I will be free from his games." I would like to say but no words are coming out.

I'm ashamed.

"I … your motorbike … never been on a motorbike before." I babble with the first fat drop of rain staring to fall on us.

He keeps staring at me, his leather jacket is becoming wet. Like mine.

"Sorry." I rush to say, stepping away from him and his motorbike.

I will talk to Foreman and say that I can't. I can't ask my boss if he wants to fuck me.

It's too much and I don't want to have sex with him either.

"Wait!" He yells and before turning toward his direction, he's beside me on his motorbike.

Next I'm on Honda, my arms tightly wrapped around his waist, rain is pouring on us, soaking every layer of our clothes, wind slapping our bodies as he rides fast, too fast for me.

Lights speeding past us, umbrellas, people, streets becoming all the same, blurry.

We don't talk.

I don't want to talk and yet, I don't know how I will ask him to fuck me.

If he wants to fuck me and what kind of proof Foreman wants.

My house is far too distant and I don't know why, but I'm not surprised when he parks in front of his house.

It's raining pretty hard and I only want to get dry.

He slams the door shut, throwing the key on his desk full of papers, books and magazines.

Then he goes straight into his bedroom leaving me dripping in the middle of his living room.

Staring down at my soaked clothes, I wonder what I should do with myself.

I'm still in time for rushing away.

Maybe I can undress, layer after layer of my clothes and then, walk naked into his bedroom.

I decide to remain dressed and wet.

Entering into his bedroom I notice him sitting on his bed stripping off from his damp clothes.

He lifts his eyes on me and there's a strange light shining in them.

Maybe thunders are having fun in exalting his blue eyes.

All around us there's silence only broken by the rain hitting the bedroom window.

Our breaths, searching eyes, the air is electric, full of humidity needs and wet wants.

Maybe I shouldn't let my hands guide myself into taking away his soaked t – shirt.

Standing between his spread legs, my fingers are cold against his wet but warm skin.

His large hands are guiding me in sitting on his thighs and I'm letting him do it.

My brain doesn't want to know where my instinct wants to take me.

Next his lips are on mine and I'm kissing my boss.

I'm kissing the man that I punched, the man I admire and hate at the same time.

I'm kissing what Cameron kissed.

Feeling his hand caressing my hair and then my jaw.

He doesn't have soft lips, they don't smell of fruity lip gloss and his kiss is not gentle yet he asks for a permission that I'm willing to give.

He doesn't push his tongue deeper in my throat like some cheap porn movie.

He takes his time.

He's in no rush.

He's tasting me.

By the time my shirt is falling to the floor I'm letting him lick, smell and bite my neck.

My hands are clutching his short damp hair.

"Please." I can only say.

Damp, reddened, swollen lips pleading.

He doesn't say anything but his increasing breath is driving me crazy with need to get to know him better.

In a way that was reserved only for few.

He urges me to take away my jeans.

"God, you are gorgeous." He breathes out, once I'm naked, standing in front of him. "Come here."

He guides me on top of him and I squirm trying to not hurt his bad leg.

"Don't care." He whispers before capturing my lips.

Rain is mixing with sweat and saliva.

Rain is beating out the whole neighborhood.

His hand finds my leaking cock and he starts to pump it, slowly.

"Please." I moan an inch away from his parted lips.

His smell, his scent … leather, rain, oil, speed, devotion, geniality and sex.

Sex I never saw him under this light.

Also knowing the existence of a fairly good number of persons ready to spread their legs for him.

His hand cups my testicles and I'm breathing hard against his shoulder wet with my own saliva.

My trembling hand reach for his, then covering it.

I spend some minutes in moaning his name, feeling how his hand is moving under mine, massaging my testicles.

Lifting up a bit from him, I reach for his cock.

"You are uncut." I smile against his lips.

"Surprised?" He breathes between kisses and licks.

He's intoxicating me.

"Yes." I smile playing with his foreskin. "But in a good way."

"Good. Go on." He moans softly against my ear while I'm toying with his foreskin.

Wind is bringing around leaves and a humid smell of damp earth mixed with grass.

Everything is proceeding slowly, I'm light headed, lazy following where he wants take me.

"Fuck." He shivers stopping my hand from pumping him more. "I'm not twenty anymore."

We spend more time in kissing. I like the way he's caressing my jaw.

Somehow I was thinking about dirty and cheap sex.

Sex, lube, condom then grabbing your clothes and going back to your place with all your secrets well hidden inside.

I was imagining him being the usual rude and harsh person he's.

No feelings please, it's a waste of time!

No strings attached please, we are not teenagers!

He starts fingering me, slick fingers getting me ready and a strange sensation of panic is taking hold of me.

"Please."

"Look at me." He softly asks. "Chase."

"Y-Yes." I try to breathe out.

I'm clenching around his finger, muscles contracting at the sudden but lazy slick invasion.

I never saw his eyes so clear, they usually have a shade of gray swimming in the middle of them.

"Look at me Chase." He asks again.

I nod and he starts to rub my cock.

One minute later I find myself pushing against his finger, panting, my fingers clutched at his shoulders.

Unsure feelings and surfacing emotions, I don't know where I want to go.

Right now I don't want to care.

He takes away his finger and stares at me, for a moment his eyes goes to stare at his damaged thigh then they return to my face.

"It's okay." I smile kissing him softly. "Just guide me."

Teach me how to please a man like you, let me see your fleeting sexuality.

Lifting up from his upper body, I go to sit on top of him, reaching behind for his wrist.

Our eyes are locked while I let him slide inside myself and fuck if it hurts and burns!

We don't speak, we only breath. Harsh, short, fast breaths.

Then we hush them with kisses and touches.

I'm whimpering never thought I would whimper while having sex.

He makes me weak, he's like he knows which spot will arouse me more, mapping every inch of my skin with his fingers and tongue.

My lips finds his nipples and I take my time in making him arch and hiss in pleasure, wetting and reddening each of them.

He lets me set the peace my hands sliding on his sweating torso and shoulders while steading my ride.

My cock bobbing against my stomach, leaking pre - come.

"Oh fuck!" I moan throwing back my head while feeling his hands massaging my thighs.

The bedroom is enveloped in semi - darkness, street lights are filtering from the curtains and it's still raining but not hard like before.

A light mist blending with the fresh and humid air of the night.

Reaching behind I start to massage his heavy and sweaty testicles.

He pulls me down toward his chest massaging my back.

"I'm about to come." I moan into his neck.

"Good." He says, his hands sliding on my ass cheeks. "I want you to come."

"Please."

"Yes."

He pumps my cock in time with his thrusts.

He's breathing, moaning in my ear, whispering little casual words, hot blowing air sending shivers down my back and straight to my cock.

He knows what he's doing. He twists around.

I guess I'm that white board and fuck he can write what he wants!

"No!" I hiss before coming, riding him like it's only existing him and his cock.

I want his cock, all of it!

Call me bitch!

Call me horny!

Call me obsessed bastard!

Call me with every name you want I don't care.

Laugh, tease, cry, orgasm, come, fill me.

I'm obsessed I don't want any help.

I only scream please shoot me again!

He pulls me down, and pushes hard, my ass clenching, muscles stretching around his cock, I'm milking his orgasm out from him.

I'm taking what he's not so willing to give. A piece of himself.

He bites hard my shoulder and comes inside me but I don't care right now he can also tear my skin off.

I let him give other two, three hard pushes and ride his orgasm.

Fuck if he's beautiful, he totally loses himself, for a moment he shuts out his precious brain.

From a genius to an animal and then back.

And my shoulder hurts from where he bit me.

Guess what Foreman?

I have the proof you wanted!

But right now I don't care.

Right now he's slipping back into his usual character. Elegantly tying his mask around his face.

But now I had a glimpse of who he can be.

I go to lay beside him, both facing the ceiling.

We stay in silence and outside it's not raining anymore.

Then he turns and stares at me I'm ready to jump out of his bed and quickly run away in the middle of the night, with him being the usual jerk he is.

Instead he closes the tiny gap is dividing us with a kiss.

A strange one, wet and needy but at the same time he stays in control by putting one hand on my throat caressing it.

Later he orders some pizza and we eat it on his bed, naked.

He talks about a joke he threw at Cuddy while hungrily eating his pizza.

I stare at him, wondering what is going to happen next.

Now that we overstepped our boundaries and I had sex with him.

I had sex with my boss. With House.

Again, I don't want to think, I'm too tired and too fucked for doing that.

He yawns and after half an hour we are soundly asleep.

Cameron is sleeping too, she thinks that I'm doing some overtime.

House asked it.

Liar.

Killer and liar.

I don't care, at four AM he wakes me up again and I spend a long time nourishing myself with his moans and touches.

A bunch of days after Foreman comes asking me to buy his lunch.

"Not anymore my dear." I smile widely.

He stares at me confused.

Without saying a word I stand up. "I told everything to Cameron."

"This wasn't the deal, you needed to fuck with House!"

"I don't want to fuck with him!" I shrug sipping my coffee, "beside I guess that he knows what happened."

"We will see." He hisses, then he goes silent, watching House walking in.

"Do you mind?" House asks before grabbing my cup of coffee and drinking it. "You don't need it."

He shrugs limping toward his white board.

Foreman stares at me and I stare back. This time it's me smirking, not him.

He knows that I'm a killer.

He knows that I became a liar.

Guess what?

I line them up and watch them fall.

After all I'm obsessed with my black and orange motorbike.


End file.
